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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23222206">are you a drug, cause I marijuana take you home with me tonight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schiste/pseuds/Schiste'>Schiste</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Police, Based off a news article meme, Comedy, Crack, Flirting, Humor, Innuendo, M/M, Minor Violence, Prowl is an asshole to everyone but jazz, Rated M just incase!, That fails, drug bust, especially you, everyone has one braincell collectively and its being passed around, good job team jazz, hes not smart and bad at raids, mentions of sexy times, mirage owns most of the stock holdings for it so he owns it most of the time, no drugs were used!, sorry prowl no one is perfect</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:21:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23222206</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schiste/pseuds/Schiste</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz’s horny thoughts lead to a busted mission.</p><p>Well, it definitely wasn’t his fault entirely, but it would have helped if he wasn’t so distracted by Prowl! Prowl was just too distracting!</p><p>In which three different precincts of investigators try to duke it out at a drug raid.<br/>unbeta-d</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hound/Mirage, Jazz/Prowl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>are you a drug, cause I marijuana take you home with me tonight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Bee, you ready?”</p><p>“Ready, steady!” The minibot replied back with a thumbs up, his paint gold with blue and black streaks, far from his usually coloration. Light blue optics switched out for a pair of warm orange, sparkling from excitement. “Wow, this voice modulater makes me sound a lot more gruff than I’m used to.” Bumblebee patted his chestplates as he looked into the mirror, playing around and checking himself out.<br/>
 <br/>
“Yeah, but it’s only for this gig, so no worries. You’ll be back to your nice, cuddly self! And how about you Mirage?” Jazz asked as he turned to the other bot. Mirage was grimacing as he turned around in front of another mirror, flicking one the chipped off pieces of cheap paint. His olfactory nasal bridge scrunched up in pure disgust. The paint they were using reeked, and Mirage was not having it. <br/>
 <br/>
“I feel utterly depraved. I have never partaken in such a debauched activity before.” The noble deadpanned, clearly displeased, especially with his red and black color scheme. <br/>
 <br/>
“Oh, so barging into people’s homes while invisible isn’t? Cool, I’ll be sure to try it on you one day. It’s cuz it’s Cliffjumper’s colors isn’t it?” Jazz snorted, elbowing into Mirage’s side, who sidestepped away from the offending appendage quickly. <br/>
 <br/>
“No, I’ll have you fried to a crisp piece of rust by security before you even hit the front steps of the Towers.” Mirage retorted, and pretended the Cliffjumper jab did not affect him as he sniffed haughtily. <br/>
 <br/>
“Yeah, yeah, and I’m a traitor.” Bumblebee muttered underneath his breath, garnering a short chuckle from Jazz. <br/>
 <br/>
“Alright alright, come on! Let’s just hit the road as automobiles~! It’s time to be circuit booster dealers~!” He sung, spinning on his heels and posing as a diva, one servo up pointing to the ceiling while the other hand rested on his hip. Jazz himself was redecoed with orange and black stripes, in reverse order from his usual black and white, as his favorite undercover agent persona, Ricochet!<br/>
 <br/>
“Please stop projecting your roleplaying fantasies onto us.” <br/>
 <br/>
“Shhhh, Mirage, you’re just covering your wild-bot side behind all that fake prudeness. Every bot loves a good kinky role-play! Right Bumblebee?”</p><p>“Uh, I don’t think so Jazz. It’s just you.”</p><p>“Oh deary me, there’s no other mature bot here that could understand. I forgot that you were a cute, innocent sparkling.”</p><p>“Hey! Quit calling me that!”</p><p>“Never! Ever since Orion gave you a big ol’ hug and said you reminded him of a sparkling, your fate was sealed! Let’s roll out!”<br/>
 </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
 “Our target is a residence at the edge of Iacon, the city of Petroit. We should be expecting a mech with a WFC-E6 model, forged, with a dark navy and orange paint. According to the big boss, this guy’s been experimenting on some new booster types. Our goal is to get a sample and bring it back to base for Perceptor to look at it. Although it's in another precinct’s territory, we’ve got permission to proceed.” Jazz debriefed while the team sped down the road, preparing themselves to pose as buyers.<br/>
 <br/>
“How long since he’s been holed up there?”<br/>
 <br/>
“About five deca-cycles, and it was in the last two deca-cycles when somebot noticed him.”</p><p>“I still cannot believe I agreed to this.”</p><p>“Mirage, signing up for a life of narc hunting is bound to lead to something like this,” Bumblebee teased, as he bumped his front bumper into the spybot’s tailpipe. “You’ve already been delaying the fact you needed to choose a department to settle in. And, well, if you really didn’t like this department, you should have chosen elsewhere earlier!”<br/>
 <br/>
“Nicely said, Bumblebee,” Jazz cheered as Mirage slipped into the farthest lane away from them.<br/>
 <br/>
“Bumblebee, keep your bumpers away. I won’t be partaking in any interaction with… This sleazy dealer.”<br/>
 <br/>
“Uh, Mirage? That’s the whole point of this assignment? To get you more assimilated to our department? Think of it as acting, it makes it a whole lot easier. Narc hunting isn’t always going solo and doing individual investigations!” Bumblebee tried again, trying to convince the blue bot.</p><p>“...” Mirage merely sent waves of displeasure from his EMF, refusing to continue the conversation.</p><p>“It’ll be fine Mirage,” Jazz reassured, “We could always use a pair of optics to watch our backs instead.”</p><p><em>Hopefully, we won’t have to run through the sewage systems anytime soon.</em> Bumblebee commed privately to Jazz with a tint of annoyance, I<em> can’t imagine Mirage freaking out and getting the hebbie geebies from the glitch rats and trash down there. He’ll probably scrap himself in a smelter before he gets down there.</em></p><p>
  <em>Well, no bot needs to let Mirage know that he’ll have to anyways. Ignorance is bliss! </em>
</p><p><em>Jazz, that’s kinda cruel, but whatever. Not my responsibility!</em> </p><p>As the residential slums started to appear over the horizon, Jazz turned on his high beam lights, flickering them in two fast sequences before doing it again one more time. The trio transformed at the side of the dwindling road, peds hitting rocks and rubble.</p><p>This was probably Mirage’s first time outside on the edges of Iacon’s poverty striken areas, Jazz thought as he watched the noble from the corner of his visor. The blue spybot was on high alert, shoulders hiked up and seemed to be even more irritated than usual, watching his step and avoiding the garbage on the streets as they walked.<br/>
 <br/>
<em>Mirage, can you cool your grouch? You’re gonna blow our covers if ya have that expression on your face!</em><br/>
<br/>
<em>I still cannot fathom that there are these… disgusting shanty homes in Iacon! I’ve seen this occur in other city-states, but I cannot believe this occured in Iacon!!</em><br/>
 <br/>
Yeah, nice wake up call Mirage, but the world isn’t as nice as it is in the Towers, Jazz sighed to himself. If Jazz had optics, they would have rolled back into his helm already. Should have gotten Mirage a mask, damnit!<br/>
 <br/>
<em>Fine, fine, you can just remain invisible when we get there and keep watch… </em><br/>
<br/>
<em>Good.</em><br/>
<br/>
So much for upper command trying to make Jazz get Mirage to adjust and become flexible. Mirage was perfectly fine the way he was now, in Jazz’s humble opinion, as snobby as the noble is... Why did Jazz have to get the responsibility to change him? Prowl’s better at this than he was!</p><p>Well, Prowl used pure stubbornness and discipline to get through recruits. It wouldn’t work on someone who has status, already experienced, is stubborn, and refuses to get their servos dirty. And nearly everyone hated Prowl for his methodologies, so uh, perhaps he wouldn’t be a suitable trainer for Mirage. Scratch that. Prowl was probably one of the most hated bots in all of the police districts in Iacon. Maybe that’s why when Prowl and Jazz announced that they were engaged, the entire office thought he was being coerced. It didn't help that Prowl had a really bad relationship history... It was a really difficult time trying to explain what part of Prowl made Jazz get the hots and jelly-legs for. </p><p>He couldn’t help it! Who didn’t like a bot as fierce, bold, and ingenious as Prowl? His ice cold optics, handsome smirk... And the things he could do in the berth… Jazz shivered as memories of ecstasy trickled into his concentration. Bad Jazz! Naughty thoughts, begone!</p><p>Upon arriving at their destination, Mirage was already hidden from sight, on his way to a lookout position. The residence before them seemed to appear like any other ordinary home. A small porch with a couple of hanging lanterns on the stairwell. If you looked carefully enough, you could see the shadow of a bot moving inside the house. Jazz looked to Bumblebee, who nodded to him. </p><p>
  <em>Mirage, are you in position?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes, sir. I have the perfect view of the back and front entrances. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Great! We’re going in.</em>
</p><p>Grinning to Bumblebee, the two walked up to the porch. Jazz knocked against the smooth surface of the door, in six harsh knocks, the first three fast, then alternating between slow fast slow for the last three.</p><p>From behind the door, a raspy voice, almost a perfect copy of a hydraulic shredding machine, responded back.</p><p>“Who’s there?”</p><p>“Delivery! We have a delivery of a 8 inch pie of sillica and alumnia, topped with fluorenone. This is Ricochet delivering the order.”</p><p>“Oh... “ The bot muttered, suddenly free of the grinding-like voice, “Why didn’t you say so earlier? Come on in!” The door swung open, and behold, the dark navy mech with the same description they were looking for! The only oddity was his chestplates did not match the picture given. Chipped away extensively, green and red highlights littered over the mech’s chest.</p><p>Well… The mission was to get samples of the new drugs on the market for Perceptor to test, not to apprehend the suspect.</p><p>Slicer, the navy bot, seemed weirdly gleeful to have the two bots come in. Usually drug suppliers were a little more on the grunge aspect of the business. But who was Jazz to complain? He was also one of the weirder ones in his line of field. </p><p>“Yes, yes, so glad you’ve came! I’ve got this new batch of syk ready for sales! It’s entirely original, and will definitely be… heh… explosive!” <br/>
 <br/>
<em>Jazz, something’s up. There’s a multiple… Cops? There’s cops coming around the corner. They don’t have their sirens on, but I’ve got a bad feeling.</em></p><p>“Ya, ya, not really interest’d in, uh, dyin’ today, uh, Slicer. Just hit us up with tha goods already.” Jazz drawled, letting his polyhexian accent take over. It was a little personal secret of his, keeping his ‘hexie accent hidden away. Although Iacon was one of the more open-minded city states to foreigners, not everyone was pleased to hear the accent of a so called “country bumpkin.”</p><p>
  <em>Jazz, Bumblebee? They are setting a parameter. Jazz? Mirage urged again, concerned and confused.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We didn’t request for backup, why are they here?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t know. I don’t care. Let’s just get out of there now!</em>
</p><p><em>Jazz almost got the stuff! Give us a moment!</em> Bumblebee joined in, his small doorwings quivering nervously. The minibot warily glanced at the windows of the living room they were in, trying to see if there were really cops outside.<br/>
 <br/>
“So impatient, uh, Ricochet, yes? What, it’s not like the cops are going to appear out of nowhere and arrest us! I’m very good at coverin- Wait, what’s that sound?”</p><p>
  <em>Jazz! Oh for Primus sake! They are entering from the back door!</em>
</p><p>From the back of the house, a loud screech pierced the nice, calm ambiance of the home, and suddenly, a metal door flung through a doorway arch from the other side of the living room. The door was steaming, completely bent out of shape as though it went under from another bot’s wheels. The sound of heavy peds was rushing towards them. </p><p>
  <em>Abort the mission, lets get the hell out of here! Jazz shouted in the comms.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jazz, what’s going on?! Wait, how can they see me as well?</em>
</p><p>Jazz sprung to action, gripping Bumblebee’s arm and trying to tug him to another room, getting a small yelp of surprise from the minibot. Unfortunately, the minibot slipped from his grip, and from panic, the mini ran away to the front door. The door slammed open right when Bumblebee reached it, hinges flying off and bouncing off the walls.</p><p>“This residence is under a search with a warrant from the High Justice Counsel, do not resist your arrest!” yelled a very familiar white and black color schemed bot. Upon tipping his helm all the way up to face the police officer, Bumblebee cried out loud.</p><p>“Prowl?!”</p><p>The cop looked confused momentarily, before taking out his pistol and aimed the barrel down Bumblebee’s face. A couple of sniggers were heard over the pandemonium as the other half of the house was getting torn into. </p><p>“Wow, you sure are popular, Prowl!” Smokescreen laughed from behind.</p><p>“I don’t know how you got my name, but criminal procedures state that you have a right to remain silent, and any words spoken may be used against you in court!”</p><p>“No, Prowl, don’t you recognize me? It’s Bumblebee!” Bumblebee beseeched, trying to scrub the cheap paint off him in hopes the yellow paint underneath will ring some bells. He even turned his voice box back to normal. Prowl only narrowed his optics in response, and cuffed the poor minibot. </p><p>“Cliffjumper, take him away. I’m not dealing with this right now.”</p><p>“Damn it Prowl! Your fiance is here too! Didn’t he tell you anything?”</p><p>“You’re only racking up the charges against you.”</p><p>Bumblebee sighed. “Come on Cliff, don’t you recognize me?” He gave him the best puppy dog eyes he could possibly do in this situation.</p><p>“No. There’s a lot of fragging yellow bots out there, and voice modulators are easy to make if you’re smart enough. If you try to impersonate my friend again, I’ll beat you to the Allspark!”</p><p>“I’m going to report to the 22nd precinct of police brutality against you, Cliffjumper.” Bumblebee sniffed, hope lost as he was pushed out the door.</p><p>“Har har har. They all say that.”</p><p>
  <em>Mirage, can you come rescue me? They got me! </em>
</p><p><em>I’m a little occupied on my side, Bumblebee!</em> Mirage hissed back, <em>They’ve got some tech neutralizing my outlier abilities.</em></p><p><em>Is the entire 22nd precinct here? Why are there so many fragging bots?</em> Jazz complained from the other end of the comm call.</p><p>
  <em>Not all. There’s three inside, another three on the outside.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Couldn’t you give us a warning of who? I’m seeing all our friends here, why couldn’t you inform us of that? Even Prowl is here!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Prowler? He’s here? OH, yes. He’s definitely here. Prowler’s trying to hit on me in ways I do not like.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They aren’t my friends. And I am not being compensated enough to deal with this.</em>
</p><p><em>Wow, thanks Mirage, the best teammate I ever had.</em> Jazz responded drily</p><p>
  <em>Thank you. Why can’t we just tell them our identities? Wouldn’t that be simpler?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Well, clearly that didn’t work for me. I’m stuck in the stupid prision bus! Where are you Jazz? I think Prowl’s looking for you now. Most of the mechs are busy dragging boxes and boxes of syk out!</em>
</p><p><em>Yes, I can tell very much!</em> Jazz gritted back, dodging the blows and attempted tackles after his aft. His armor was dented, and nearly half the paint he had on earlier was shredded into little dusty particles. He was a multicolor mess. Sunstreaker would screech at him and go nuts about Jazz’s sacrilegious paint coating if the vain mech saw him now.</p><p>He took advantage of the officers’s efforts capturing the dealer, and scuttled up the stairwell and into the dealer’s berthroom while they were occupied. The room was full of random tinkered machinery and toys. If Jazz had looked more closely, he would have recognized some. Alas, the energon rush was making him too lightheaded to be able to focus on the smaller details. It was like this room was a death maze, making itself a huge inconvenience to navigate especially when Jazz wanted to get outta here pronto. In the corner of his visor, he finally located his escape route, a window! From the noises of fighting downstairs, and indignant yelling, he could safely assume that the dealer has been captured. Now it's time for the grand getaway.</p><p>“Do not resist the inevitable, we know there’s more of you here!” Prowl’s voice echoed from the stairwell, as Jazz listened to his ped steps. Primus, his spark was going nuts in its casing from excitement, and Jazz couldn’t understand how Prowl couldn’t hear him venting hard from all the way from his hiding space!</p><p>“Nah, it’s just me!” Jazz called out from his hidey hole, while throwing some random tool into another room, sighing in relief that Prowl went the other way.</p><p>“Do not try to fool me! I will not hesitate to apprehend all of you!”</p><p>“Oh deary me, Jazz is going to be married to a dumbaft.”</p><p>“How did you know my identity and my personal life? Do you think you’re amusing?” Prowl shouted, coming closer as he realized the source of the voice. Perhaps this is why Prowler never was on actual missions in action… He sure sucked at this… What a disappointment. At least he's staying fairly professional.</p><p>“Babe, ah was n’ver ready for this kind of comedy,” he murmured quietly as he activated his maglocks. Silently, he climbed the walls over the door arch as Prowl made his way into the berthroom. From above, Prowl looked quite big, although in reality, the two were nearly of the same stature. Maybe it was from all the raid gettup. Oh no! Are those dents? Seems like he put up too much of a nasty fight when he was busy punching his fiance earlier. Damn, did Prowl look scrumptious with riot gear accessories on him. The tough, unyielding osmium flak jacket taut around his bumper and hips, oh primus! Prowl really carries such a nice rack! Too bad his cute little biolights and headlights were blocked by the getup… He always loved it when Jazz- No! No dirty thoughts Jazz! You can admire Prowl’s steaming bod later! Got to get out now! Easy does it, get around the weird spikey rotating thing, there we go! </p><p>Upon getting into a couple peds away from the window, Jazz prepared himself to lunge through, his goal to transform into his alt mode and speed over to the prison bus to pick up Bumblebee while the others were busy raiding the house.</p><p>
  <em>Bee I’m coming down from the left window on the second floor in, 3, 2, 1-ACK!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jazz? Are you alright?</em>
</p><p>Right when Jazz turned off the maglocks, white servos were clenched around his ankle, and dragged him down into the mess of metal below. Sharp edges slashed into his armor and several cabling. Hissing, he turned over and swung his arm to his offender, who caught his wrist in a tight, servo crushing grip. Now, he was nearly being straddled by Prowl, wrists slammed down above his head, and if it were in the berthroom, Jazz would have been so turned on now. But his back is literally killing him from the stupid junk below.</p><p>“Ooooh! Ya shoulda told me ya loved being rough! Ah woulda been so eager to play police and robber in the berth with ya! Oh look, there’s one right here!” Jazz winked, one side of his optic band going dark, and playfully licked his lips. </p><p><em>Prowler, please let me leave with Bumblebee, I swear Primus I’ll be a very good mech! Let me save both our precinct's dignities!</em> Jazz cried internally, but Prowl’s expression only grew darker. </p><p><em>Jazz? Are you there? Mirage? What’s the situation?</em> Bumblebee tried again, probably bored of sitting inside the bus while watching the other cops haul the goods out. </p><p>
  <em>I am busy trying to convince Hound, my own consort- lord have mercy, how is it he’s so daft right now- that I am in fact, not a criminal. I cannot believe this. This is a disgrace. I took off the voice modulator, but the paint is still not coming off! He won’t believe me!</em>
</p><p>“Stay down and don’t move, I’m not in the mood to play with your foul games! Why are all of you trying to pretend to be who you aren’t? I won't falter!”</p><p><em>Prowl! You’ve failed me!</em> Jazz silently bemoaned. <em>What good is your tact computer when you can’t even tell who’s your fiance?! And how are you not getting flustered and let your guard down? You always get all embarrassed when I call ya pet names in front of your friends!!</em> Knowing that he had one last shot, he picked his ped up and slammed it right up into Prowl’s crotch. <em>Sorry love, but if the damage is that bad, I could live with you being the carrier for our future sparklings instead! </em></p><p>“Frag!” Prowl cried out as he hunched forwards and collapsed his entire weight on Jazz, tightening his thighs trying to keep the smaller bot from squirming out of his grip while in pain. His face warped in pure fury, and a nearly animalistic growl ripped out from his throat. Seeing he was still having difficulty, Jazz swung a fist into Prowl’s faceplates, feeling a hot wave of satisfaction when Prowl's helm flung back. Ah, this was what they meant by Prowl having a punchable face. Finally free, he sprung out of Prowl’s nice, thick thighs. </p><p>His victory was short-lived when Prowl responded by grabbing Jazz’s helm and pressing him to the ground again, grinding his audio horns into the broken junk below, gritty feedback filling his HUD in pure agony. Yelling in pain, Jazz couldn’t take it anymore. Frag dignity, let's just leave this to Pax to explain this to the press!</p><p>“Oh for frag’s sake, I had enough of this!! Prowler, listen to me, this is Jazz! I’m undercover trying to do my slagging job! Can you stop hunting us all down and let us explain?” Jazz shouted, fuming at the pure ridiculousness of the situation. He put his fingers to his neck, and deactivated the modulator. “See Prowl?” He winced at the sound of his voice, as the soundwaves stimulated his already damaged audios.</p><p>Prowl’s pissed glower eased a little, and with a little uncertainty, the cop above him sent a tendril of spark energy through the small bond they had. Perhaps if they were fully merged and bonded as conjunx endura already, this whole situation wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Jazz sent his own pulse, which eagerly twined with Prowl’s. Upon this realization, Prowl’s entire expression changed, optics wide open and in shock. </p><p>“Jazz?!” </p><p>“Yeah, sweetspark, ma love, ma Prowler, ma sweet, sweet black and white hunk,” Jazz retorted sarcastically as he changed his visor’s setting as well, “Thanks for finally recognizin’ ya fiance, really appreciated after ya slammed meh into the ground twice. And don’t yell please. My audios are still ringing.”</p><p>“Oh Jazz, why didn’t you say something earlier? Are you alright? How is this possible?” His fiance whispered and scrambled to get off of Jazz and lift him up from his eagle-spread position on the floor. “And what’s with the accent?”</p><p>“Ah’ve been ‘n worst situations. Ah was tryin’ to save all our damn dignities, ya know? Now we all gotta write this down in our reports and get our afts whooped by Pax as the press makes fun of us. And ah’ve always had a ‘hexie accent. Just stopp’d usin’ it when ah kept gettin’ weird looks.” Jazz muttered, looking away from Prowl and still frustrated. He did a full on body shake to get the weird bits of metal and stuff out of his scratched seams. </p><p>“My apologies, Jazz… It seems, I was too blinded to notice. It’s… How is something this incredulous possible? I always check the assignment logs of every nearby precinct before heading out.” The other black and white mech professed, picking up one of Jazz’s hands to hold it gently between his own, “Forgive me? I’ll treat you at the end of this cycle, after you get checked up?” Prowl’s frown was weirdly warped into a funky smile from the damages, but his usual icy optics were sorrowful and warm, even while one of them was flickering from the punch Jazz threw earlier.</p><p>“Fine, ya better be giving me a nice ol’ bath and waxin’. I want ma platin’ to be glimmerin’ fancier than Sunny’s or Tracks’.” Jazz huffed and he squeezed Prowl’s hand playfully.</p><p>“Deal. Only as long as you don’t hide your accent anymore. It’s absolutely wonderful.” Prowl purred, optics half-lidded as he traced the seams of Jazz’s arm.</p><p>“Ooooo, don’t rile me up when I’m like this! Ya know I can’t control ma self when it comes to you, Prowler!” Jazz pecked Prowl’s undamaged side of his face, before pulling the mech into an embrace. “Come on, let's get outta here!”</p><p>“Agreed, we still have quite the mess to deal with. Let me carry you, you received quite the beating.” </p><p>Upon arriving at the bottom of the stairs, the couple was intercepted by Smokescreen, who took a double take at the sight of a battered Jazz and Prowl.</p><p>“Wha? W-Wait, when did Jazz join our team? He wasn’t here earlier!” Smokescreen stuttered, looking back and forth between the two while his optics shuttered and refocused.</p><p>“Jazz was undercover with his fellow narcotics officers. Unfortunately, it appears we were raiding them while they were on an assignment.” Prowl explained, looking very, very tired and out of patience, as the high from earlier wore down. </p><p>“Yep, and we did send your precinct a notification that we would be in your territory retrieving samples from this drug den, but it appears communications went to slag.” Jazz chimed in, and Smokescreen only looked more confused.</p><p>“But wait… Just earlier, the drug dealer told us he’s actually a staff member in the 23rd precinct! He’s under orders to watch and develop the statistics of drug sales undercover as a drug supplier!”</p><p>Prowl looked like a little bit of his spark vanished back into the Allspark.</p><p>“What’s his name?”</p><p>“His name is Wheeljack!”</p><p>“Jacky? Oh scrap, ah didn’t know Jacky was also on a mission out ‘ere! What the frell is higher up doin’? Wait… It all makes sense now!” Jazz exclaimed excitedly, “I knew that green and red coloring and model frame looked similar!! And the fixation on explosions!” </p><p>“Yeah! I can’t believe you guys are so rough! I was so confused when Bumblebee started prattling off his identity. Why did you guys even raid me? I was sent here on an assignment!” Wheeljack added as he came into view at the bottom of the stairs. He looked like he had seen better days, but he was in better shape than Jazz or Prowl. </p><p>“You all destroyed everything so fast! My lab! My research! And damn Cliffjumper busted my backdoor down like a bull!” The scientist mourned, “Well, at least I am not the one paying the damages. Maybe I can finally get the funding I’ve wanted to start some new projects of mine that doesn’t have to do with circuit boosters...”</p><p>“Wait, so everyone here is an official member of the Iaconian Narcotics Team? Jazz, from the 21st precinct, us from the 22nd, and Wheeljack from the 23rd, and... And we didn’t know it? ” Smokescreen pressed, optics wide and jaw slack when Wheeljack and Jazz nodded. “What? This is crazy!” He turned to Prowl, who looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and perish. “Cousin, You just… I can’t… Primus! I gotta tell everyone!” The other praxian fell into a fit of giggles, and ran off.</p><p>Jazz didn’t need to look at Prowl to know what his mate was feeling as he felt the body he was leaning on trembling. Frustration, embarrassment, and disappointment in himself rocketed from one side of the bond to Jazz’s. As the chief investigator, he’s gonna have a lot to explain to Orion, who will be undoubtedly disappointed.</p><p>“Love, don’t be mad. Sure, we were all cops underneath our disguises and it's been a weird day. Let’s just get home, ‘kay? Try not ta throw the tables back at home when we get back tho.”</p><p>Prowl merely hid his face into the crook of Jazz’s neck, and when there were no one else in the room, proceeded to softly cry.</p>
<hr/><p>“So you’re telling me that they were all cops or affiliated staff underneath disguises?!?!”<br/>
 <br/>
“Yeah, can you believe that?” </p><p>“What? WHAT? So then that bot earlier, the yellow little one trying to convince Prowl, was really Bumblebee?!?” Cliffjumper yelled, and turned to Bumblebee, who gave him a dirty glare before hiding behind Wheeljack. </p><p>“Bee!”</p><p>“My friendship with you is over, Cliffjumper,” Bumblebee pointed accusingly to his ex-friend, expression full of disappointment and disapproval. “Wheeljack is now my best friend. We bonded while we were stuck in the bus.”</p><p>“Bee! I didn’t mean it! I didn’t know it was you! Bumblebee! Don’t give me the silent treatment! Bumbles! I swear I didn't mean anything by saying I'll beat you to the well! Please don't report me, seriously. Bee? Bee? Why aren't you responding?”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>-I have no actual experience with drug raids... If I did I wouldn't be saying so anyways. Everything is from my imagination... </p><p>-Pax will literally give everyone the "You have failed my expectations, but I will not punish you because I believe you can do better" look at home base and make everyone look down to their peds and feel guilty. </p><p>-Yet in front of the press he absolutely annihilated everyone involved, and promised this would not happen again. Prowl couldn't show his face outside for several cycles (he has infinite sick days from vorns of never using them), but jazz forced him out. Prowl is absolutely whipped by Jazz, even though he acts very pushy and cold outwards when their co-workers are around.</p><p>-I don't have the original meme, I only saw it once in my lifetime and couldn't find it again for reference.</p><p>-Slicer is some kind of decepticon version of Wheeljack, I found it on tf wiki. Bumblebee was painted as Goldbug (SG) and Mirage was red and black like one of his counterparts in the tf world I found on tf wiki. Or cliffjumper, you decide.</p><p>-If I were to continue this series, I would have a one shot of Pax vs. Megatron, where the two captains are competing against each other, seeing who's teams were better. (Soundwave, superior! Blaster, inferior!) Maybe another chapter just for the oreos, who are on loan to Kaon helping the mechaforensics, and Jazz gets to see Prowl react to an ex. I love a prowl with a shit ton of exes, with Jazz already come to terms with Prowl's best and worst, while people still try to convince him to change his mind.</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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